PAGE ONE -- Gay Couples Joyously Exchange Vows in S.F.

April Lynch, Chronicle Staff Writer

Published 4:00 am, Tuesday, March 26, 1996

With nosegays of bright spring blossoms pinned to their lapels or nestled in their hands, hundreds of gays and lesbians took a first step down the aisle toward fully sanctioned same-sex marriage with a ceremony of love and commitment yesterday at San Francisco City Hall.

The mass wedding, which joined together more than 150 couples, did not carry the full legal weight of a heterosexual marriage ceremony. But participants and organizers said the gathering is an important milestone in the fight to give gay and lesbian unions the same official recognition as straight marriages.

Above and beyond the politics, it was a great day to hold hands, promise a lifetime of loyalty

"It shows how much we cherish each other," Jan Stafford, clad in a cloud of white satin and tulle, said as she looked at her partner of 12 years, Maxine Kincora.

"I just thought the ceremony would be a fun thing," Kincora replied from underneath her own veil of ivory lace. "But the closer we got to it, the more weepy I got."

The event at Herbst Theater in San Francisco's temporary City Hall was billed as the first of its kind in the country. The simple exchange of vows adds a ceremonial component to the city's 1991 domestic partners law. Two other cities -- New York and Madison, Wis. -- also have vows to go with their domestic partners registration, but San Francisco is the first city to initiate the vows with a mass public ceremony.

The event comes in the middle of a national debate about same- sex marriages. Courts in Hawaii are expected to legalize gay and lesbian marriages within a year. But conservatives in many states, including California, are seeking to pass laws barring recognition of such unions. Colorado Governor Roy Romer, a Democrat, turned back such an attempt yesterday when he vetoed a bill banning same-sex marriages. The bill was passed by the state Legislature earlier this month.

Some religious leaders, including San Francisco Roman Catholic Archbishop William Levada, have expressed serious misgivings about the city's new domestic partners ceremony. Frowns from the pulpit, however, did little to dampen the ceremony.

"We are here to express our affirmation and our defiance," Supervisor Carole Migden, joined onstage by Mayor Willie Brown, told the hundreds of people in Herbst Theater. "We affirm the love of these couples . . . and we defy that movement that seeks to deny us respect, equality and dignity."

The day may have been historic, but it got off to a quiet start in dozens of homes throughout San Francisco as couples prepared for the big event.

In one Victorian flat near Duboce Park, Robb Reichert and Pete Eastridge were both up by 6 a.m., dressing in matching black slacks and striped shirts and pinning boutonnieres of fire-and-ice roses near each other's collars. Each pushed a purple and black garter up one sleeve, a reminder of the religious wedding vows they exchanged in their living room with friends and family in December.

They share their home with a black retriever named Allie and a fluffy tabby cat named Gidget. Reichert, 48, is a retired nurse. Eastridge, 55, works as a bank consultant.

The two were introduced by a friend six years ago, after both had lost lovers to AIDS. They merged households two weeks after first saying hello. "We both knew this was something special," Reichert said.

"We just feel like a married couple," said Eastridge. "It has worked."

The duo headed down to City Hall, joining couples who arrived by car, motorcycle and motorized cable car. After checking in with city clerks, the couples lined up in groups of about 20 awaiting their turn on stage.

There were pairs in bright leis and luau shirts, couples in tuxedos, mates in perfectly pressed suits, and duos in spring dresses straight out of a garden party. Couples brought friends and family, from sleepy toddlers to a proud mother who flew all the way from Taiwan to watch her son get hitched.

Guided by music from the Lesbian/Gay Freedom Band, each couple made their way to the stage after having their names and a brief statement celebrating their relationship read aloud. Then, city officials took turns administering the brief vows.

Amid all the pomp were moments that bring almost every wedding back down to Earth. As Maxine Kincora walked down the aisle, Jan Stafford stepped on her train. Some couples flubbed their vows. Others burst into tears, or gleefully flung their bouquets into the audience.

When their turn came, Eastridge and Reichert stood on stage looking a bit overcome with happiness and affection. They said their vows holding hands, exchanged gold rings set with a rainbow of small gemstones, and finished with a heartfelt embrace.

"This is public recognition for the love we have," Reichert said. "I think there are a lot of very, very happy gay people out there today."